The Drinking Contest
by grumpystumpy
Summary: F!Hawke drops in on Isabela and Varric at the Hanged Man, hijinx ensure. F!Hawke/Isabela Romance. Mild language.


Marian entered the Hanged Man and was forced to immediately dodge a staggering longshoreman, almost running into a barmaid in the process. Offering an apologetic smile to the offended woman she began to scan the room. There was a sizable clump of patrons gathered off to one side, cheering loudly. Marian edged along the bar and cut across the floor to the outskirts of the group. Standing on her toes, she finally managed to get a good look at the spectacle that had the masses so entranced. Isabela was seated on one side of the table and across from her was a sandy-haired, scruffy looking, dock worker; judging by his clothes anyway. There were five empty shot glasses apiece in front of each and a sixth filled to the brim with a blood-red liquid.

"Hawke!" she heard Varric shout. Marian looked over to see the dwarf standing off to the side of Isabela, waving.

She walked around the perimeter of those gathered and slid into the gap Varric had made for her. He grinned. "You're just in time!"

"Just in time for what?"

"To watch the Rivaini take the prize for the evening! Quite the purse for the night too."

Marian pushed a few strands of short, dark, hair out of her face. "Isabela's getting paid to drink now? No wonder she spends so much time here."

"This isn't the usual swill served by this esteemed establishment. The bartender helped me out with something a while back and in exchange I managed to procure for him some rare Antivan rum. No one has any idea what's actually in it- might not even be rum! What we do know is it's the kind of stuff that puts hair on your chest and leaves you to wake up naked in a back alley."

Marian smirked. "Oh, that's why you're so furry. And here I thought it was all natural. Truly a disappointment."

Varric gasped, holding a hand to his chest. "I'm offended! You've just insulted generations of my ancestors! Oh! Wait, here they go!"

She looked down to see Isabela consume the liquid in a single gulp. The sandy-haired man stared and licked his lips. Individuals, who Marian assumed were his friends, began to pound him on the back which made him look more uncomfortable. With a trembling hand he took the small glass and then emptied the contents into his mouth. The man blanched and promptly leaned to the side to vomit on a bystander's boots. There were groans of disgust and grumbling as coins dropped on to the table; which Isabela wasted no time in collecting.

Marian slid on the bench next to the pirate as the crowd thinned out. "This is how you spend your evenings now? And here I thought you lingering in this shithole was a ruse to throw off the nosy from your life of exotic adventures."

"Not every moment of my day needs to be filled with death-defying escapades, you know. Sometimes I need a bit of peace and quiet," the pirate replied with a grin.

"And drinking a longshoreman to the point of illness falls under the category of "peace and quiet?"

Isabela laughed. "It's just nice to have a few minutes in the day where someone, or something, isn't trying to kill me."

"I just assumed you spent your days looking for that relic."

"I do. But, between that and following you around? I think I've earned a bit of sport here and there."

Marian watched as Isabela counted up her prize money and then split off a portion of it, sliding the coins over to Varric. "Oh, so you're in on this too."

Varric offered a slight bow. "Of course! I provided the drink, it's only fair I get in on the action. And with the Rivaini at my side I've been making a nice profit this week. This is what, your fifth victory, my dear lady?"

Isabela deposited her winnings into a purse. "Sixth actually. Though it was a bit unfair for that poor sod the second night. He only had one sip and I was fairly certain he'd died."

Marian shook her head. "I really should separate you two. You're practically robbing the place."

"It's not robbery if the coin is freely given!" Varric said, offering a wave as he headed for the stairs.

"So, Hawke, care to take a stroll around Lowtown? It's supposed to be a full moon, perfect for, well, just about anything I suppose."

"Marian," she corrected.

The pirate frowned slightly. "I know your name."

"Yet you can't be bothered to use it?"

"What? Hawke's your name, too. Everyone else calls you 'Hawke,' why can't I?"

"I thought we were well into first name territory by now. Possibly even bordering on the precipice of middle names?"

Isabela smiled and leaned in close, running her fingers through Marian's hair. "First names, last names, who cares? Give me a few moments and you won't remember either anyway."

#

She returned to the Hanged Man a bit earlier the following night. The crowd was just starting to get thick and she noted that Isabela's drinking table was already cleared. The pirate winked as Marian strode across the room to join her.

"Back again?" the Rivani asked, a smirk on her lips as she toyed with a glass of amber liquid.

"How could I resist the lure of sweat and ale that defines the Hanged Man? It's impossible. Shouldn't you be saving yourself for the contest?" Marian asked, nodding at the drink on the bar.

Isabela laughed. "This is nothing. I wouldn't even call it warming up."

"If you say so."

Marian waved at Varric as the dwarf came over to join them, ordering an ale. "I checked the stores, Rivani. We've got half a bottle left and then one more. We'll easily squeeze in a couple more nights of this."

The trio chatted idly for several minutes as the tavern continued to fill. Varric finished his drink and set the mug on the bar before clapping his hands together loudly. "Ladies and Gentlemen! While we all enjoy the fine brew served by the best barkeep in Kirkwall, every now and then we deserve a treat. Tonight, we're offering a taste of Antivan rum to anyone bold enough to try!"

There were intrigued murmurs throughout the crowd,

"And, if you're going to be enjoying such a delicacy, why not share it with a beautiful woman? " Varric added, gesturing grandly at Isabela; who had taken her place at the table, a smile of her lips.

"If that isn't enough incentive, let's just make it even more interesting. Why not see if you can drink more than the delightful lady here? 10 silver a shot and she'll match you for it. If she stops before you do, you win. I'll be happily accepting wagers on this friendly contest. Now, who's up for a challenge?"

The sound of hushed tones and clinking coin purses filled the air.

"I'll take her on," Marian said loudly, taking a seat on the opposite Isabela. She removed a couple of knives from her belt and held them out to a perplexed looking Varric. "Can't be too careful."

"Are you mad?" the pirate asked.

Varric took the weapons and Marian pulled out a coin purse, dropping it on the table with a thud. "What? My profits from the Deep Roads not good enough for the two of you?"

"No, but…" Isabela began.

"Then it's done. I'd like to add a condition, if I may."

Varric tapped his chin. "What would that be?"

"I win? Isabela has to start addressing me as Marian. I get a silver each time she calls me Hawke from here on out, should I be victorious."

The pirate opened her mouth, but the dwarf interjected. "Done."

"Varric!" Isabela said.

"What? It'll be a great story! It's not like she's making you address her by some stupid nickname."

"I am partial to Schmooples, if you'd prefer," Marian said with a smile.

Isabela glared. "All right. Done. Let's get started."

Varric waved to a nearby barmaid, who bore with a tray filled with six glasses and a corked opaque bottle. She set out three empty glasses in front of each of them and the Antivan rum in the center of the table. Marian cracked her knuckles, watching the dark-eyed pirate glower, and listening to the sound of money changing hands. The dwarf poured the first shots of red alcohol. Isabela snatched up her drink with practiced precision and downed it.

Marian picked up her own glass and grinned broadly. "Bottoms up!"

Throwing the shot back, she was immediately aware of two things: one, the alcohol burned worse than the venom that various giant spiders had shot at her; two, it was quite possibly the foulest thing Marian had ever tasted, outside of the nearly spoiled provisions she'd consumed escaping the Deep Roads. Water spilled from her eyes, but she could still make out the satisfied expression on Isabela's face admist the tears. Resolve filled her then, resolve or whatever she'd eaten earlier. Either way, she wasn't giving up.

Licking what remained of the liquid from her lips, Marian coughed. "Another, please.

#

They were on their fifth round. The room was definitely starting to spin, for Marian anyway. The colors were sort of pretty too.

"You okay, Hawke?" Varric asked.

Isabela swallowed her sixth shot and set the glass on the table with a smug smile.

Marian clenched her jaw. "Hmph. I'm fine. Another."

#

She didn't know how much she'd drank. Was she even still drinking? Yes. Yes. She had to still be drinking. She couldn't let Isabela win. Groping blindly in front of her, someone pushed what felt like a glass into her hand. Her stomach churned, but she ignored it. She thought they had consumed twelve, maybe fifteen shots of the shit? Did it even matter?

"Hawke?" The person sounded concerned or delighted. It was hard to say.

"Fine. More. More, damn it!" Marian said, downing another shot.

"Did anyone even understand what she just said?" someone who seemed very far away asked.

#

Marian opened her eyes slowly and then quickly closed them. She didn't know where she was. She did know she wasn't in her bed. And she knew she was bloody cold. Probably because she was naked, well, almost naked. She fumbled around, tugging at what felt like a blanket tangled around her legs.

"Let me help with that," Isabela said.

Marian opened one eye to see the Rivaini, a pail in hand, bending down to pull the thick, brown blanket up over her.

"I don't understand how you can't stay covered. I was only gone for a few moments to empty the bucket," Isabela chided gently as she knelt down next to Marian, setting the container to one side.

"Where..?" Marian asked. Her tongue felt thick.

"We're at your estate. Bodahn was horrified when you started vomiting on the floor, I think your mother will be giving you a talking to later because of it. I was shocked I even got you up the stairs. We were headed to your room when you decided you wanted to talk to the bloody gargoyle outside the window."

Marian groaned and closed her eyes again. "Maker my head hurts."

She felt Isabela's cool hand brushing hair off her forehead. "Serves you right. You made it to round seventeen before you passed out cold on the table. Even I was feeling my drink by then. I thought I was going to retch carrying you back here."

"Did I win?"

Isabela chuckled softly, still toying with Marian's hair. "Of course not. I drank one more before we left just so there was no question of my winning. You left a lot of patrons disappointed; though my purse, and Varric's, thank you for the extra coin."

She sighed heavily, feeling her stomach stir for a moment. "I don't care about the money."

Silence was her only reply. After a moment she opened her eyes to be sure Isabela was still there. There was a slightly pained look on the pirate's face and Marian felt a pang of guilt. Reaching up she took Isabela's hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm really all right with whatever you call me, Isabela. As long as you're around to address me? I'll be happy."

Marian saw a faint smile on the pirate's face as Isabela bent down to put an arm around her. "Come on. Let's get you into bed."

"I really don't think I'm up for…"

"There will be no sex, sadly. You wouldn't last a minute. Your bed just might be more comfortable compared the floor. Unless you'd rather your mother find you stark naked when she gets up?"

Marian chuckled and shook her head. The room spun and her knees wobbled precariously as she got to her feet; however, Isabela pulled her close and didn't let go.

#


End file.
